


Soul Gift

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Death, Deathfic, Gen, Qui-Gon Lives, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-02-22 13:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13168242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Death, cloaked in white, as fair a being as any Obi-Wan has ever seen, has come for Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan has something else to offer her, to distract her from his beloved master. He finds the trade acceptable.No one else does.





	1. Chapter 1

 

Death is something that comes for all.

Some try to ignore it until it sweeps them off their feet with a cold kiss. Some rail against it as if fury and defiance alone could stay the will of the Pale Lady.

Qui-Gon realized her approach a little late, perhaps, but he was willing to go with her in spite of the surprise. Given an option, of course, he would have requested more time, but the Sith's blade left him with no real choice.

His precious Padawan, however, saw the fair one and screamed _no._

 

* * *

 

No one can truly cheat Death.

But occasionally, very rarely, the pure _fight_ in a mortal brings a smile to her lips and she grants a few more days with that smile. She steps back into the shadows, her eyes warm with pleased pride and her white cloak swirling to hide her form.

She sometimes grants reprieve.

Usually with a gift of pain. A price. A memory.

It would not do to dance with her and walk away without something to show for it, after all.

When Qui-Gon Jinn awoke to find himself _not dead,_ he expected to discover the price his body would bear.

It didn't take long to realize that Qui-Gon himself would not carry that weight. Obi-Wan had demanded both life, and to take the cost of it himself.

Pale eyes that had to squint to see Qui-Gon, even with the Padawan sitting so close to the bed. A translucency to already-pale skin, revealing the stark blue of veins beneath. Easily wearied, soon to exhaustion, and hurting.

Whispers of pain as he breathed. Borne silently, because there was little anyone could do, and Obi-Wan did not want to bring others sorrow or distress if he could help it. The pain was not so terrible; he could bear it.

They soon discovered Obi-Wan suffered if the distance between himself and the man he'd poured himself out to save stretched more than a couple rooms' worth. Obi-Wan tried to brush it off, but Qui-Gon could see no point in forcing him to endure _more_ unless they had no choice.

So Obi-Wan stayed in his Padawan room while Anakin went to the creche.

It wasn't like the Healers thought the arrangement would have to last long, anyway.

Obi-Wan had drawn Death's attention away from Qui-Gon. She had kissed the youth, and desired him.

She would be back, and soon.

For now, Qui-Gon indulged in murmuring praise often, and cuddling his Padawan on the couch, the young man content not to speak, but to just be.

Qui-Gon suspected that was because Obi-Wan knew he would be faced with another embrace soon. One that would deny him all others.

Qui-Gon's heart threatened to break over it, but the soft smile that Obi-Wan wore most of the time now, even in pain, seemed to urge Qui-Gon to wait.

There would be time later.

Obi-Wan had requested more time from Death to spend with his Master, and Force help him, Qui-Gon was going to make sure he had it.

They watched holovids and cooked meals together. They went for long walks in the gardens and read books while curled up on the couch side-by-side. When Obi-Wan's eyes tired, he would ask Qui-Gon to read aloud, and Obi-Wan would rest his head against his shoulder, Qui-Gon's arm moving around him until the younger Jedi fell asleep.

Qui-Gon would hold him in the twilight as tears slipped down his cheeks.

 

* * *

 

The Council decided Obi-Wan deserved his knighthood.

To give of self to save another was selfless. A _more_ drastic expression of just how Jedi Obi-Wan was would be difficult to find.

Qui-Gon severed his Knight's braid, heart full to overflowing.

Obi-Wan nearly glowed, clasping the braid tight in his hand.

_You made it, precious child. You wanted to become a knight._

“Thank you, my Master,” Obi-Wan whispered, holding out the sacred symbol to him.

Qui-Gon took it and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

And later, when Obi-Wan looked just a little sad, what the young knight asked was, “You won't throw it away, when—?” His voice trailed off, unwilling to speak of what they both knew was coming.

“Of course not,” Qui-Gon replied, voice not quite steady.

Obi-Wan nodded and allowed himself to be drawn into a hug, quiet tears of his own slipping down the ashen cheeks.

 

* * *

 

“Why did you punch Ferus, Anakin?”

Obi-Wan sat on the couch, Qui-Gon through the door in the kitchen, clattering around making dinner.

Anakin sat next to Obi-Wan, ice held to his swelling lip. “He said you were dying. You're sick, but you're not— you're _not,_ ” Anakin insisted, tone fierce.

“But I am.” A blue-lined hand touched the child's knee, and Obi-Wan's voice was gentle. “We don't know when, but I am.”

A ragged sigh escaped Anakin as tears blurred young eyes. “Are you scared?” he whispered. Small fingers wrapped around Obi-Wan's own.

The knight considered it. “I saw where she wanted to take me.”

“Who?”

A slight smile touched Obi-Wan's lips. “Death, Anakin. The Force is beautiful. It looked warm, safe. And it felt like a hug from all the people I miss. Death is treacherous, and does not care for age or skill, but I find I cannot hate her. She may not be a friend, but she is hardly an enemy, when she takes me to the Force.”

“I don't understand. It's _dying._ It's not a person.”

“Hmm. Sometimes, things depend on our point of view.” Obi-Wan's smile deepened as he remembered her. Glittering white cloak, as if made from new-fallen snow. Alarming when coming for Qui-Gon, yes, but the instant she turned her face to Obi-Wan, he'd recognized her. She'd walked close to him many times through his life, though she'd never come for _him._

When she looked at him, there was recognition in her eyes. She _knew_ him.

“I don't want you to go.”

Obi-Wan squeezed the fingers holding his. “I understand, Anakin. I know what it is, to watch someone go and remain behind. But this is natural, Anakin. And I have had a _good_ life.”

“You're not old yet. You're supposed to get old,” Anakin sniffled.

Obi-Wan leaned close so his master couldn't hear, since the crashing of the pans had suspiciously quieted. “I'll tell you a secret. I gave Qui-Gon my extra days. So he can grow old. I will watch him and be happy.”

“I don't understand.”

“When you quiet your mind and listen, you'll hear me. I'll be the wind in Qui-Gon's hair. The sunrise that wakes you up. The whisper of your name in a forest. I won't be gone, Anakin. Not really.”

“That's a lie to make the people left behind feel better,” Anakin replied, too world-weary for his nine years.

Obi-Wan stroked the back of his hand with a thumb. “There is a poetry to the world, Anakin, if you simply listen for it.”

“I don't want a poem. I want you.” The young one curled into Obi-Wan's side, and Obi-Wan held him close in return.

Tears stung Obi-Wan's eyes. “I know,” he whispered again, voice thick with feeling. “I would not hurt you if I could help it.”

“It's going to hurt Qui-Gon too.”  
“Yes.” The tears slipped free, rolling down Obi-Wan's cheek. “Be kind to him, when I am gone. Please.”

Anakin nodded against Obi-Wan's ribcage, squeezing him tighter. “I promise. I _promise._ ”

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Obi-Wan sat beside Qui-Gon on the couch, leaning into him, eyes half-mast.

His breathing wasn't quite easy today, but he hadn't once complained.

The companionable silence broke when Obi-Wan's hand landed on Qui-Gon's arm and squeezed painfully tight.

“She's here,” Obi-Wan whispered.

Qui-Gon's heart leaped into his throat. “So soon?” He scanned the room but couldn't see the woman Obi-Wan's gaze was fixed on.

“It's been months, Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan's voice was gentle, and a thin hand touched Qui-Gon's jaw, turning his face to be looked into. Earnest eyes met Qui-Gon's, and the older Jedi could read the always-present pain there, compassion, and a faint misting of tears. “I am ready to go with her,” Obi-Wan whispered, “for the pain to end. And I am grateful for the years I have had with you, and for everything you have given me. And especially these last few months I was granted—” his voice failed, and to express how precious he had found them, he lifted Qui-Gon's knuckles and pressed a soft kiss to them.

Qui-Gon couldn't quite breathe as Obi-Wan stood, gaze turning to the center of the living room. He took a few difficult steps, and stood still.

The door slid open and Anakin walked in only to freeze in fear, eyes going wide as he saw something Qui-Gon could not. “Sh— she's real—”

“I will go with you willingly,” Obi-Wan murmured, head turning as if he was being circled. From Anakin's gaze pattern, Qui-Gon assumed that was exactly what was happening. “I am yours. But please, have mercy on them, and be gentle. I know you do not take requests— why should you?— but please grant me this one. I will not fight you. Please take me quietly.”

 

* * *

 

She considered, pausing in her movement, then smiled.

It made both Obi-Wan and Anakin tense.

And then she walked Obi-Wan back to the couch with a possessive, loving touch.

_Please._

It might not be the gift Obi-Wan hoped for, but he would hold hope until the last moment.

Her hand brushed the back of the couch and ghosted over Qui-Gon's hair. The older man shuddered at the touch, eyes going wide.

_Yes. That was her._

Obi-Wan sat down again, the movement slow and pained. Qui-Gon's arm slipped around him to hold him tight.

She moved around to stand before them again, and insistent hands cupped Obi-Wan's face. She tipped Obi-Wan's head back.

His heart leaped into his throat. _This is it. Goodbye._ _I love you, Master, so much—_

She breathed in.

Obi-Wan felt himself fading as he stared into her delighted eyes.

He smiled, just a little, realizing she had granted his request one last time.

Favored by Death.

He felt pleasantly sleepy, and Qui-Gon's arm was warm and safe around him.

One perfect moment.

The pain fell silent.

So did the fear.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan's lips parted, his chin tilting up and chest collapsing as if his breath was being drawn out of him. His eyelids drifted shut, the Force around him gentle and free of the pain that had haunted him.

The auburn head sank to rest against Qui-Gon's shoulder, and the loyal heart stilled.

In the Force, the bond between master and apprentice loosened. Not tearing out and free, but untwining and slipping away.

It ached, oh how terribly so, and Qui-Gon's eyes filled with tears at the loss—

But his mind had not been brutalized by the departure.

Qui-Gon shifted his grip on the empty body so he could draw it more securely into an embrace, and let his tears fall into the soft, short-cropped hair. He didn't try to stop the soft sobs that ripped out of him.

Anakin crept over to them, perching beside Qui-Gon on the couch cushion.

Qui-Gon freed an arm to put around him, and Anakin hid his face in Obi-Wan's tunic as silent tears joined Qui-Gon's in a melody as old as time itself.

 

 


End file.
